


Persephone

by Lelline



Series: For the love of Jack [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: BAMF Jack, F/M, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Fem Jack, Fluff, GTA AU, Ryan POV, Team Same Voice - Freeform, drabbly, hints towards Persephone myth, macklemore coats, the Vagabond is a softie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5906065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelline/pseuds/Lelline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan spent years becoming the Vagabond. But it all slips away from him the day he met Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persephone

The Vagabond had no idea how he had gone from being treated like death incarnate to being treated like a cool but kinda sloppy “dad”.

No… well… He kinda knew how.

He has spent years building up his identity, and it had been one of the few things he took pride in. The faded leather jacket, the black skull mask, and the bloodstained jeans had been his skin and his armor, sheltering whatever scrap of humanity he has left. No one seen his face and no one knew his name.

Jack Pattillo was the reason he went from ‘the Vagabond’ to just ‘Ryan’, and the worse thing was that she never seemed to notice the loss. It was either a blessing or a curse how she brought out the humanity in him.

Jack was open and humble, having no code name or title to be able to hold rank over anyone else. She didn't care about whether or not people feared her, and her face was never covered. Her clothes were eccentric and flashy, bright prints matching the lively smile she wore whenever she saw anything she loved. She always smiled when she saw her crew. She had her humanity on her sleeve, and for the first few weeks he'd known her he’d thought it had just been a clever disguise. She killed just as callously as any mass murderer, but it was clear soon enough that she was much more complex.

It was mesmerizing to watch her sometimes, though he only risked it when they were in a safe house. She smiled and laughed at every joke, went along with any game, she openly complimented everyone for their efforts and she was the one to make sure they ate and slept and had enough bullets. 

She chose and furnished the safe houses, making them all so perfect even if they hoped to never use them all. Their favourite things were in each house, from a stash of weed, to a few DVDs of Always Sunny. She even put changes of clothes in each room, trying her best to match the styles of all the guys.

And maybe he can’t fault her for not being able to find his exact jacket. The first few houses she tried to get the next closest thing, but in his mind, the coat was part of his signature. He refused to even try on a different one.

And he supposed that was how she started to ruin him. Because when he refused to try on leather, she just hit second hand shops to find him the strangest jackets.

“You wanted to stand out.” She shrugged the first time he found a blue and purple windbreaker in his closet.

He hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he had just let it be.

But then he needed a new outfit. 

There had been a heist, one of those overinflated ‘fun run’ that the others were so fond of organizing. It had gone terribly since Geoff had insisted on having Jack’s cargobob pick them up from the middle of the ocean. And a little too much flailing from Gavin had ended up tipping the boat and emptying out its passengers.

Jack lowered the boat again so that they could all get back in, but he was drenched and cold and could hear the woman's laughter even without the help of a comm.

The safe house was remote but just as well furnished as the rest. The Vagabond’s room was in the center of a round hallway, windowless and private just as he liked it.

His choice of new clothes was not what he liked.

There was a skull mask, yes, but it was only large enough to cover his face, not his dyed black hair or his blonde roots. The jeans were dark and tight and the horror movie tshirt clung to him in all the right ways. In just the jeans and shirt, he actually looked slimmer and more sculpted then ever before. And if that was all there was, he would think she was trying to make him look good. But then there was the coat.

Long, blue, fur lined.

He thought about burning it outside.

But he was cold and he was tired and he just wanted to eat and then disappear into his room. It had been a long day, full of awkward moments and other people fucking up. He’d just have to wear it for a few minutes.

“Nice coat.” Michael cackled the moment the other man saw Vagabond step inside the kitchen.

“I didn't know Macklemore was going to be here. I'm a big fan, man. I’ve always been all about thrift shops.” Ray added.

And Gavin just looked gleeful, excited to have something to hold over the Vagabond.

So he did what he did best and fell back on his defense mechanisms. He puffed up, narrowed his eyes and tried his hardest to let every inch of his aggravation come out in his voice. “I thought i’d try a new look.” He headed for the fridge, ignoring grinning Jack as he fetched a knife and an apple. He'd spent a good summer in theatre camp perfecting his next move, but he doubted the others would realize that it wasn't something he just could do intrinsically. He tested the blade on the tip of his finger, ensuring it was sharp, then tossed the apple and the blade in the air.

He was damn lucky it worked, the knife embedding through the apple and into the wall between Gavin and Michael. The redhead had gone a little pale, and Gavin seemed to be choking on his own spit.

Jack just laughed, clapping her hands as if he was the showman he’d always wanted to be.

And then he had to keep wearing the stupid coat. If he stopped then, it would be a sign of embarrassment.

The vagabond didn't get embarassed. The vagabond didn't feel a little nervous and excited when he saw the grin on Jack’s face that broke out every time she caught sight of his coat.

The next way she ruined him was to start dragging him into Gavin's dumb conversations.

He'd spent months listening to the stupidest things tumble out of his big mouth. He'd stayed quiet during talks about legs forgetting they were legs, coin toss probabilities and even a discussion about Coke vs Pepsi.

But then one day Gavin asked Jack a million dollar question and instead of answering, her eyes danced over to Ryan’s.

“What would you do, Ryan?”

“I’d kill whoever had the money and just take it. Why would I play along?”

And normally Gavin would be respectful enough to back off. Normally he'd leave Ryan alone at the first sign of danger.

But instead he looked to Jack, who was still relaxed and smiling at the masked mercenary.

“But what if you couldn't do that? What if they were immortal?”

“Why would a immortal offer me a million dollars to spend a year painted green?”

He should have never started talking to Gavin. The thing was, Ryan knew things. Ryan knew the answers to half of Gavin's questions, and for the other half he knew enough to know when Gavin was wrong.

But now, he was directly invested in Gavin's stupid ideas. And the more he talked, the more he fumbled over words.

And what was even more worrying, was when he realized he didn't mind them laughing when he stumbled over words, he didn't mind realizing one day they were his friends.

He especially didn't mind making Jack smile.

She smiled the most when she had an engine purring under her fingertips. She hot wired cars faster than you could breath, got planes on and off the ground in impossible situations, and had a record of stealing construction trucks and trains.

To see her on a bike though was a glimpse at paradise.

He'd never told anyone when his birthday was, but he wondered once if Jack had known it was coming up. It had been a cold night and he had spent most of it scattering the remains of a rival crew. He'd been cold and tired and sore, a few bruises bothering him from a lucky shot that had hit just Kevlar.

Any complaints he had vanished as a motorcycle pulled up. Jack was on board, dressed in black leather pants and his leather jacket.

He had heard of people referring to pants being so tight the person must have been poured into them. This wasn't like that. Jack looked like her pants had been poured onto her, almost looking like they were still liquid.

Jack smiled at him like she knew exactly what was floating through his head. She was a devil in angelic packaging. “I had to borrow your jacket. I couldn't find mine.”

He doubted she'd lost her yellow one. Still, he couldn't complain as he climbed on behind her, the smell of her pomegranate shampoo on the air as the wind whipped through her red hair.

His jacket still smelled like her days later, making him smile inside his mask. Whatever they were was evolving. He cared for her far more than he ever had cared for anyone before. She was like a goddess in his eyes.

Ryan never thought to keep her safe, he never thought there was a need to protect her. She was the most cautious of all of them, staying back in firefights and only throwing herself into the fray when needed. Jack was as predictable as the seasons.

Ryan, Geoff and Ray had only been gone a weekend, gone to settle the last of the “peace talks” with Funhaus. They returned victorious, but only to find an empty house and a missed call from their private Doctor Caleb and a shakey one from Gavin begging Ryan not to kill him.

Michael and Gavin had gone out drinking, looking for trouble. And when trouble found them Michael had killed it. And then they’d wandered off to find Caleb and fix a broken arm.

They hadn't kept Jack updated though. Jack had gone to pick the boys up, completely unaware of what they'd done, and there had been cops waiting for her.

“She's fine.” Michael promised, looking directly at Ryan as if he could see through his black mask. “You know we’ll have her out soon.” He looked scared of Ryan, and a part of Ryan wished he didn't. Gavin was hiding somewhere, obviously even more scared of what the vagabond would do.

There was more important things for Ryan to do though. Before he could hunt down the British idiot and give the two lads a lesson, he had to see her.

He rented a motel, wanting to be alone as he did this. The first step was a hot shower, and then he washed his face again just to be safe. The cheap scissors he’d bought did a poor job of cutting through his long hair, but he could get it fixed later. He kept his face shaved anyways, to make his makeup and mask more bearable, but his face felt unbelievably bare as he stared at his reflection.

He'd tried his best to find the kinda clothes a regular person would wear, though he couldn't bear the thought of wearing a polo. A generic graphic tshirt, a thick sweater, jeans and the kind of sneakers that would make Meg cry.

And then, perfectly disguised as himself, Ryan headed straight for the jail to see the woman he loved.

She frowned when she saw him but to be fair he was frowning back. Her left eye was bruised, but she seemed otherwise undamaged. He watched the guards march her to the chair across from his and then chain her ankle to the table. They didnt remove her handcuffs.

“Orange really isn't your colour.” He said once they were as alone as they were going to be, the cops still there and listening, but at least off to the side like civilized eavesdroppers.

He'd worried that he would have to hint his identity to her. Sure his voice and his eyes were the same, but this was not something he would do. The Vagabond didn’t take off his mask, the Vagabond didn't risk his life just to see a woman smile.

He was learning that Ryan would do it though. Ryan would do anything for her.

“You're right.” Jack smiled, a flush of color on her cheeks. She leaned in close, eyes never leaving his face. “But you're one to talk. You dress like you're a father of three.”

“Well, I am.” He said. “I'll bring the kids up by Wednesday.”

The coded message was necessary, but he immediately regretted his wording as her smile widened.

“Good. Don't be too strict with them while I'm gone.” She kissed his cheek, the scent of winter mint in the air as her warm breath ghosted over his face.

He had still been a little flustered from the touch when he returned to their condo, which had almost been a big mistake when Ray greeted him at the door with one of Michael’s favourite shotguns.

“It's me.” Ryan said, a little amused by how fierce Ray managed to look despite his Pokemon pyjama pants.

“Ryan?” The Puerto Rican nearly dropped the gun. “Holy shit man, you have a face?”

“Wot?”

And he knew that he had to really love Jack. Because he didn’t even mind the others seeing his face. He had already lost his air of mystery and the death like persona he’d spent years developing.

But his mind was still on her soft smile and her cool kiss.

It only took a few days to have Jack back out of jail, but he felt strange with her gone. He had never noticed her absence before like this. He wasn’t even sure she loved him back. If he had misjudged the situation, he could be building himself up for a lot of hurt.

Instead, Jack greeted him with a smile like sunshine, eyes lingering on him even as they fled to the getaway car. For once, she let Geoff drive, grabbing Ryan’s hand and pulling him to the back.

They had never done anything before, but sitting in the backseat and just holding Jack in his arms felt like coming home. Jack was everything to him.

And that night, when they were alone and she pulled him close, Ryan forgot the rest of the world. All that existed in those hours were them. All that mattered in that time was her.

His Persephone.


End file.
